Chuckle
by spicehnoodles
Summary: Intoxication and Courtney just don't mix. Unsurprisingly, Duncan enjoyed it.


**Title: **Chuckle

**Summary: **One night + one club + several drinks + an intoxicated Courtney = one memorable moment for Duncan.

**Point of View: **Duncan – first person

* * *

**"**_At every __party__ there are two kinds of people — those who want to go home and those who don't. The trouble is they are usually married to each other._**"**

○ **Ann Lander

* * *

**

One word came to my mind when I saw this:

Un-freakin'-believable.

If you knew Courtney, you would immediately know that she was insane and uptight to the _max_. If you told her she was wrong about whatever — and she_ was_ wrong about whatever — she would whip up some boring speech about it, trying to prove you wrong. She wouldn't care if it took her hours and hours. She's one determined chick, I tell you.

You see, earlier Courtney said that she was going out with some of her co-workers — reluctantly. Seriously, if I didn't irritate her into going and to have a good time _for once_, she wouldn't have gone. But yeah, so she went to some club nearby, and I knew there wouldn't be any trouble, because one: she had people with her, and two: Courtney's a huge believer in her principles or whatever crap; she wouldn't let herself get wasted.

Or so I freaking thought, right?

Now, I see my girlfriend practically dirty dancing in the middle of the dance floor with her uniform buttoned all the way down. Luckily she's wearing some black tank-top underneath, or else … we would be seeing some of her goodies. And only _I _can see her goodies.

She's holding a beer bottle up high with one hand and swinging her hips here and there like nobody's damn business. Some explicit song is playing, and it just makes the situation even worse since it's turning me on. Hell, seeing _this _turns me on. But I don't want any of these losers drooling at the sight of her within a small foot near her.

I push my way through the crowd, shoving some pervs to the ground when they wouldn't move. I accidentally step on some girl's shoe, and she shrieks in my ear. Damn it! It's her fault for wearing those heels!

Some confident guys go up to my Princess and start dancing with her, staring at places only _I _can look at. I growl and shove more people away, heading towards her.

"Damn, honey, you have a _fine _a — ," one of the guys comments, staring. _Staring._

I yank his hair down and grip his neck. I glare into his eyes, seething.

"Get away from _my girl _or else I'll make sure _this_" — I squeeze his neck tighter — "is _ripped off_," I threaten.

The guy gulps. "D-Dude, I — I wasn't s-starin' or anythin'. J-Just enjoyin' the — "

"You finish that sentence and you _die_."

I let go of him and scurries off like a scared little mouse. I laugh out loud, feeling satisfied.

Yeah, I still got it.

The other guys are glaring at me, too close to Courtney. I glare at them, and I take out my handy pocketknife a little. They see it. Their eyes widen, and they run off, too.

_They make guys_ _look like such girls, man_, I think, rolling eyes.

"Oh yeah! Getting down and dirty is my 24/7 hour job. Please me, baby, oh yeah, and don't stop! This club is bangin', let's go to my room right now; I'll show you what bangin' really _means_!" Courtney sings out loud. She's actually _yelling _it, but her voice sounds … _okay_.

Not.

She may have a nice voice, but since she's wasted and all … _no_.

How does she _know _this song, anyway?

She sees me and grins. Her eyes are lit up with happiness and craziness. She drops the beer bottle on the floor, and I wince when I see it crack on the floor. No liquid spills out, and no one really hears it since the music's blasting. She runs towards me and wraps her arms around me.

I smell her. Alcohol and … alcohol — mint? Did she chew gum before all this? Ugh, the smell of booze from her mouth is making me want to gag.

"Hi, Dunk," she says in my ear loudly. "Wha-Wha' br-_rings_ you her'? Ha! I said 'her' like I'm some — ha! Yeah, that's berry, berry … wha_-aaaa_'?" She pulls back and stares at my face. She pats my cheek with her hand, pursing her lips. " … Harold?"

… Did she just pull a Lindsay on me?

"Uh, _no_," I answer. "It's me … _Dunk_, remember? Your hot boyfriend? Yeah, the guy you fell head-over-heels for? Yeah, baby, that's me." I grin smugly. Messing around with her when she's drunk seems tempting … so I'm doin' it.

She stares dumbly at me.

"Princess?"

The nickname seems to snap her back to reality. She smiles again. "_Ohhhh_, yeah, yeah! You're that — that idiot!"

Even when drunk, she still calls me that. Even when drunk …

She leans in closer; our noses are touching. "Hey, hey … I gots some_thang _to tell you. Y-You are like s-s-s-_sexy_, like _very_. Like … huge! Fat! Wait … do you, like, _lurve _me?"

I ignore the fat jibe. _So she _does _think I'm sexy._ "I do. I do love you," I say, smiling.

She sniffles. "No, no, _no-o-o-o-o_! You — you d-don't _lurve _me! I said — I said _lurve_! LURVE! N-Not … _love_. Dunk — Dunk, you little basketball … doesn't! Lurve!" She starts to tear up.

_Oh, crap. _"Wait, sweetie! Yeah, I, uh, _lurve _you. Don't worry, I do! D-Don't cry, please." I rub her arms gently. "I lurve you." Damn, did I just _say _that?

She smiles again. "I lurve you, too … " A dumb look appears on her face. "Wait … y-you're — "

"I'm Duncan."

"Bu-But you're — "

"No. I'm Duncan."

She opens her mouth again. I cut her off.

"_Duncan."_

She giggles. "Oh _yeah_! Yeah! The idiot! C'mere, you!" She plants a slobbery kiss on my lips. It reminds me of when Petey would lick my face. (Rest in peace, old buddy!)

Aw, man. I kissed her back. I did. And I would've made out with her with everyone groping around us. But, dude, her breath _stank_. She kissed like she didn't know where my lips were at, too. Wait a minute …

"Courtney," I say.

"Hmm?"

"That's my chin."

"And this is _soooo _going on YouTube," someone says behind me.

"What the f — ?" I turn around, bringing Courtney with me.

"_Wheeee!" _she exclaims, laughing.

I see one of Courtney's co-workers, Kay, holding her phone with one hand, smiling mischievously. She places her phone in her breast pocket of her uniform. She smirks at me.

"You know she wouldn't like that," I tell her, holding Courtney around the waist tightly.

Kay's smirk stays in place. "I know. I like her, but … a little _international _humiliation wouldn't hurt anyone. Besides, she almost got me fired for putting the violins in the wrong boxes. Just returnin' the favor."

"You do realize you're telling _me_, her boyfriend, all of this."

"Uh, I know."

"So … "

She raises an eyebrow.

"Make sure to send that video to my phone, would'ja?"

It turns out that Kay "accidentally"gave Courtney a glass of wine. Courtney kept drinking and drinking, too focused on going home, and she … got wasted. She demanded for beer bottles and just drank and drank. Her co-workers tried to stop her, but she was unstoppable and kind of destructive. That part wasn't hard to believe. Apparently when they tried to pry the bottle out of her hands, she would smack them in the face.

That's my girl.

But who knew that one night could turn into something pretty hilarious and kind of weird?

* * *

"_DUNCAN!"_

Oh no. She found out. Hide, hide. Run for your lives. Ahhhh.

I stretch my arms out and sit up on our bed. I scratch my head and look at the time. 6:34 A.M.

The door slams open, showing Princess, looking angry as hell. She's holding her PDA with one hand. Her cheeks are red with anger, and her eyes are screaming "I'm going to _murder _you, I swear! I'll dump your body in the Pacific Ocean just so the police, your parents, won't find _you_!"

Yup. Hotness.

"I woke up with an excruciating migraine, still wearing my work uniform! I have the sudden urge to vomit something out, and I get a message! And you know damn well what it is, don't you?" she screams, hurting my eardrums. Jeez, it's the freaking morning.

"Ugh, _chill_," I groan.

"And the idiot tells me to _CHILL_! Shut up! What's _this_? This — this catastrophe of a video?" She holds up her phone, the video playing. I can hear the loud music, but I can mostly hear how drunk she sounds.

I laugh.

She glares. Glares, glares, and glares. Jeez, I'm hungry.

"Stop your insane _laughing_! This is horrifying! I bet Kay sent this to a plethora of people! That video will make my life a mockery! What am going to _do_?" She glares at me again. "You didn't even _stop _her, right? You didn't! You _didn't_, you egotistical, juvenile, unintelligent, unsanitary, maniacal Neanderthal! _Ugh!_"

She's getting _way _too worked up. I walk over to her, and I wound my arms around her waist. She pushes me away, but I hold on tighter. "Okay, okay, you want a hug? A kiss? Full out make-out session? Hmm?" I coo.

She sneers at me. "You're making me want to _hate_ you," she spats.

"But you don't, so there ya go."

"My life is going to be humiliating now since a huge amount of people are seeing me as a joke to the society, and you're treating all of this as if I just tripped? How _dare _you? Have you no _sympathy_? What's wrong with you?"

Ha, she's saying all of that, but she's not getting out of my hug.

"Actually, she put that video on YouTube already," I inform her.

I think all the color drained out of her face.

"Y-YouTube? N-No way … " She looks all hopeless now. She better not start hyperventilating or something. Aw, crap, I'm feeling all — crap, _crap_!

I bring her closer to me. "Don't worry, babe," I assure her. "Her ex-boyfriend's a bud of mine, and he's got _tons _of embarrassing photos and videos of her. I'm sure a little payback won't hurt, eh?"

"But what about the video?" She seems to be getting to her senses now.

"Screw it."

She starts freaking out.

"All right, all right. Calm down. Sheesh. I'll force Harold to take it out or somethin' … Maybe even that geek Cody will do it, too." _I don't care. _I _still have that video_, I think.

"He better. And _you _better make sure," she warns. She shrugs out my embrace and starts muttering to herself. I think I hear her plotting some sort of revenge against Kay. It will most likely involve a speech about how immature she could be. Poor Kay.

"Oh, hey, babe."

She looks at me. "What?"

I smirk. "Can you show me what bangin' really means?"

" … Shut up."

* * *

**Blah: **

The quote above really does remind me of Courtney and Duncan.

Really.

Oh, and the song Courtney was "singing" isn't real. I just put whatever I hear in those hip-hop song things. It was actually fairly easy since they play in the radio a lot …

Have a cupcake, people.


End file.
